


In The Hands Of A Yankee

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Series: Steggy Week 2020 [5]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Michael Carter - Freeform, Michael Carter POV, Michael Carter/Bucky relationship, POV Outsider, POV Third Person, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Pregnant Peggy Carter, Protective Michael Carter, Protective Steve Rogers, Steggy - Freeform, Steggy Week, Steggy Week 20, SteggyWeek20, Steve and Peggy are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: There are a few things that Michael Carter is having a hard time grasping about Steve and Peggy's relationship and one is the fact that Peggy Carter, his little sister has willingly married a Yankee. However, as Michael recovers from being a prisoner of Hydra, he's come to see that perhaps Steve isn't such a bad guy for Pegs. At least he knows how to throw a punch.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Michael Carter, Peggy Carter & Howling Commandos, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Steggy Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837666
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	In The Hands Of A Yankee

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the HC that Michael Carter is gay and one of the only people to know would be Peggy. Either way, Peggy loves her big brother.

This was a situation that Michael Carter never thought he’d end up in.   
  
For one, he never thought he’d end up being kidnapped and taken hostage by Hydra, the Nazi organization he was working with the SOE and SSR to dismantle.   
  
They’d taken him hostage and far as he believed, the world had believed for him to be dead when in reality the soldier was tortured and experimented on in one lab before he was moved to another when the results didn’t show that the scientists want. For years it was like this, hopping around labs, barely alive and grasping just the barest of news to figure out how much time has passed.  
  
Until he ended up here, in the back of some Hydra’s lab, discarded like some disgusting vermin, left to survive on rodents and melted snow. That’s not exactly how he wanted to meet Captain America or the Howling Commandos.   
  
“Michael Carter?” The Captain’s voice was deep and calming, his pretty blue eyes soft as he knelt down to be on the same level. “You’re okay, son. We’re gonna bring you home.”  
  
That tugged a smile onto Michael’s lips, his head swimming as he mustered up the energy to sit up without blacking out. “‘P-Marge...Mar...I need t-to see Peggy...Carter.”  
  
It was the only words the captive got out before he slumped back, only being caught by Captain America at the last second.   
  


* * *

  
The next time Michael found himself coming to, he laid on a makeshift cot in the middle of a plane. A gentleman with kind eyes that looked almost silver, so kind and soft that it took the veteran a moment to notice that the hand tending to his feverish face was made of metal.   
  
“The hell happened to you? Did your mother fuck a robot or something?”  
  
The plane was quiet for one second before a big, burly man with a thick mustache and the metal armed guy laughed.   
  
“As awesome as that would be, no. I just got really smart friends,” the man replied, helping him sit up. A canteen full of water was held to his lips, letting him greedily drink from it. “Cool, isn’t it?” He wiggled the fingers in front of Michael ’s face. “Name’s Bucky by the way.”  
  
“M-Michael. Michael Carter. Whose the rest of you lot? Does it normally take this many to rescue a dying man?”  
  
“Hm. No,” replied a blonde with a thick, brown beard sitting directly behind Bucky. He filled the seat out and unlike the others, wore civilian clothing. “You asked to be delivered to Miss Carter and well - we all like to make it a family occasion. We’re the Howling Commandos, we’ve all worked with Peggy over the course of the war.”  
  
Michael nodded, glad to hear that his little sister had taken his advice after all. His eyes scanned the men around the room, letting the metal armed man named Bucky idly feed him bits of cold broth and sips of water. If these were the Howling Commandos, then where the hell did Cap go? Unless he just imagined that.  
  


* * *

  
It takes both the blonde guy named Grant and Bucky to support him as the Howlies lead him through the halls of the SSR. When Grant had said this delivery was a family occasion, well he meant it given how they all packed into the hall.  
  
“Now hang on,” Grant was saying, causing them all to stop. The way these peopled looked up to Grant told Michael that he was their leader - or at least they valued his opinion enough to be the leader. “I don’t think we all-”  
  
He stopped talking as Howard Stark opened the doors, ushering them all to file into a room that could do with seeing some more light of day and less cigarette smoke.   
  
The room was at a standstill at the sight of the Howling Commandos, the odd one in civilian clothing, Grant standing with his shoulders pulled back like he had something to prove to this room. Must be the Brooklyn in this kid, he’d know that damn accent anywhere.   
  
A man with dark hair and limping on a crutch struggled towards them, face flushed as he took in all of their faces, his eyes lingering on Grant’s the longest before he finally faced Dugan.   
  
“Dugan, what’s going on? Why are you all here? We didn’t call for you.”  
  
“Now Agent Sousa, you know damn well we wouldn’t be barging in here if we had no other choice. This fella demanded to speak to Carter and we’re delivering him,” Dugan replied in a firm tone. “Now where is the lass? She owes me from the last time we saw each other. I want a rematch on those push-ups.”  
  
Michael laughed, despite how it made his head swim. That sounded like Marge, alright.  
  
Sousa, the one limping past them just glared at Dugan before huffing, “She’s in the conference room, they’re just finishing up.”  
  
They were just outside the door when a male’s raised voice reached their ears. He felt Grant’s hand tighten around his side, to the point that it felt like he was about to crack his ribs.   
  
_ “... even have any idea as to what in the hell you’re doing, Carter? The door -”   
  
_ Grant’s breath hitched in his ear just as Michaeltore himself away, seeing nothing but red. There was this tanned sexist piece of crap that was laying into his sister.   
  
In the back of his mind, he could hear Howard or maybe it was Bucky telling him to stop, but it was lost on him as Michaellimped forward and grabbed the tanned bastard by the collar. Without thinking, he threw a solid laid punch into the man’s jaw, knocking him to the floor.  
  
There was that split second of stunned silence, before the voice he’s missed for so long started to yell at him.  
  
_ “What in the hell was that? _ If I needed my battles fought for me, then I would have had asked. I could have handled that,  _ who  _ in the hell do you think you are?”  
  
Michael couldn’t stop that grin from splitting open on his face as he turned towards his sister. “Still got that spitfire attitude as always huh, Pegs? Not even a war could tame that fire.”  
  
Peggy’s eyes widened as the file she held slipped from her hand, papers flying in every direction. Her hand flew to her mouth, her heels clicking on the floor as she took a step back to look at all of them.   
  
The grin didn’t die from Michael’s face either as her eyes shined with tears she was clearly fighting, tearing her eyes away from her brother to look past his shoulder at the men she once called a family standing there proudly.   
  
“Mi-Michael,  _ how?” _ Her cracking voice broke his heart.   
  
The older Carter sibling smiled at his little sister, wanting to be the balm that soothed her once more. His arms tenderly wrapped around her, just glad that the Howlies had given him something better to wear than those soiled rags. “Your Howling Commandos found me. I don’t know where Cap went, but he was the one to pull me from the cell.”  
  
Peggy looked up over his shoulder and towards Grant, attempting to keep her bottom lip from trembling. “S-Grant,  _ where - how?”  
  
_ “Last month Dugan and Gage ran across some documents that dictated a prisoner being experimented and moved around periodically and none of it fit Bucky’s information. We bit the bullet and went after the trail. Thank God we found him, that place was abandoned a long time ago. They left him to die.” There was a look in Grant’s eyes that made Michael want to protect Peggy. Not because he thought the blonde was going to hurt her, but just because she was his little sister and that look meant there was something there.   
  
“Come on, Marge, I think it’s time we go home. You’re no fit to work today.” Michael breathed in her ear, already walking her out of the conference room and passed a bleeding Jack.  
  
If anyone in the office had some form of another opinion, they said nothing, at least not with the Howlies and Stark around. For once, Peggy didn’t argue either but Michael didn’t miss the way that Grant instantly knew where Peggy’s desk was and how he wrapped her up in her own coat, holding onto her purse.   
  
Grant had this tender smile on his face as he handed Peggy her handkerchief and just barely brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear that told Michael he was right in his thoughts that there  _ was _ something between them.   
  


* * *

  
Michael couldn’t help the frown from forming as he watched Grant and Peggy talk outside the backseat window. He couldn’t read either of their lips, given their position and he was almost too tired to keep his eyes open. From Peggy’s expression alone, she looked relieved.  
  
Now, that was strange; the way the pair hugged. The way Peggy lingered in his arms and how Grant seemed to cover her with his, his body tilting into hers as if to curl over her and protect her.   
  
Thankfully, it was just Grant, Bucky, and Peggy who got in the car. Peggy stayed in the backseat with him, endlessly mothering him while Grant drove them home. The ride was quiet, despite he could feel Peggy's need to ask endless questions. She must've been able to see just how exhausted her big brother was, punching Jack alone had taken all his energy.  
  
Grant and Bucky were parking the car when Peggy helped him into the house. It was hard to focus on the warm home, especially when his little sister was already running around. Next thing he knew, a blanket was around his shoulders, a warm mug of tea in his hand, and leftovers from dinner heated up and placed before him.   
  
There were tears in her eyes and despite them, he could see the tactical mind that he’s heard about the famous Peggy Carter. Always three steps ahead.   
  
“It's hard to believe you're real and home," she sighed, reaching out to brush a long piece of his hair off of his forehead. "You'll stay with S-Grant and me for as long as you need to, okay?"  
  
Michael frowned, sitting up to take in the beautiful home for the first time. The walls were painted a soft yellow, a love seat shoved under the window. A bay window held fluffy pillows and a sketchbook. A blanket was halfway folded over a recliner near the radio. A glance in the kitchen told him there were three coffee mugs by the coffee maker. Two pairs of workboots by the back door. This didn't make any sense, Peggy didn’t sketch. She never liked to at any rate.   
  
His confusion grew as he looked out the kitchen window to see Grant outside, bringing in the laundry that was drying on the line.   
  
“You and Grant are dating?”  
  
His little sister just looked impressed and then sheepish as she watched Steve open the door with his hip before disappearing in the back.   
  
“I guess we don’t make it hard to notice, but yes. We are. Grant…” She sighed and took his hands again, rubbing the pad of her thumbs across the back of his knuckles. “Grant isn’t actually who he says he is.”  
  
She paused for a moment and stared into his mirrored eyes before continuing, “Grant is actually Steve Rogers. Ca-”  
  
“Captain America,” Michael finished for her, frowning. “What in the hell, Margaret?! You’re telling me you’re dating Captain America?!”  
  
It was Peggy’s turn to frown, crossing her arms as she stood up from the couch. It mirrored their other in a very tactical manner. “Yes, I am. I fail to see the problem, Michael. I’m a grown woman. I can choose who in the hell I want to date or not. You don’t have to baby me. I’ve grown-”  
  
Michael cut her off with a wave of his hand, standing up too despite how he looked like he was about to fall over. “But he’s a  _ Yankee!”  
  
_ Bucky’s laughter caught the soldier by surprise, turning around to see he was bringing in the rest of the laundry and groceries from the boot of the car.   
  
Even Peggy had an amused smile on her face. “I suppose he is, but I love him. I don’t need to defend myself to you.”  
  
“What the hell, Marge? I-I mean I’m glad you’re happy, but he’s a yank! Do you know the sin you’re committing here?”  
  
Michael had turned back around to see Bucky’s face, then Peggy’s. “Are you dating him too?” He threw his hand at Bucky causing Peggy to snort at the accusation.  
  
“No, Michael. I’m not. James just lives with us. I-”  
  
As Peggy’s hand went to swipe through her hair, Michael caught her wrist, for the first time noticing the dull flash of a golden band across her ring finger. “No. You didn’t. Pegs. Please tell me you didn’t marry a Yankee.”  
  
“Then I won’t tell you,” Peggy mused, pulling her hand free with a small grin on her face. “Steven, love can you get the second guest bedroom ready? Michael, I love you but you smell. Let’s get you in a shower. You can borrow James’ clothes until we can get you clothes of your own."  
  


* * *

  
Michael would be the first to admit to himself that perhaps he was a little bit judgemental towards Steve. It was very clear that the man was helplessly in love with his little sister and meant her no harm.  
  
As the few weeks passed by, Michael sat and watched as Steve fluttered around the house and made sure everything was in perfect order for Peggy when she got home. That if she called cranky and tired, she'd have a glass of red wine waiting for her, a warm bath ran, scented with her favorite oils. When she had called to inform Steve that she'd be late one evening and to 'not worry about her', Steve had left the second he was off the phone to pick Peggy up from wherever the hell she was at.   
  
She'd come home with a bruised eye and refused to tell him what had happened, but at least Steve handled the situation like he has a hundred times before.   
  
Steve would always be sure that laundry was done on Sunday, before noon. He knew for a fact that was a soldier's leftover habits showing right there. He'd pack Peggy lunches with special treats and notes when he was unable to join her for lunch.   
  
Every night, when they thought the household had gone to bed, Michael would catch the pair swaying in the moonlight of the living room, a tenderness about them that could never be reached by two people who didn't understand each other to the full extent.   
  
There was something about Steve that made him think he looked tired in a manner that told him it was more than just about getting enough sleep. He had a look in his eyes that told him he had seen far too much, done too much, and suffered the consequences for it. And while he wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Steve stopping his role of Captain America, he did appreciate the fact that Steve didn't complain when the Howlies or Peggy asked for his help.   
  
And maybe, just maybe he had a soft spot for Steve just because the man could bake the most beautiful apple tart that anyone had laid their eyes on.  
  


* * *

  
It was late one night, another sleepless night for him. Bucky was already asleep, having developed a habit to check in on the man when he couldn’t sleep. Normally, Michael left his sister and her husband alone, but their door was slightly cracked and he could hear whispered voices on the other end.   
  
It was far too late for anyone to be up, especially two people who had work to go to in the morning. He wasn’t sure where Steve went during the day, but he'd leave before Peggy left and make sure to be home before she did to ensure dinner was cooked.   
  
“I don’t know, Steve.” That was Peggy. She sounded so...doubtful, it made Michael ’s heart clench. He’d never heard doubt like this in Peggy’s voice. “This feels like chasing some dead end.”  
  
“Because SHIELD isn’t a mistake, Peggy.” What in the hell was SHIELD? Like that round thing that sat by the door? The one Steve carried wrapped in a cloth when he left? “I know you’re nervous and so am I. This is messing with time - more so than what I’ve done. But...we deserve to see it through to the end. I have the money to start earlier than what should happen. You don’t have to worry about relying on outside help.”  
  
Peaking around the corner, Michael saw the way that Steve tenderly smiled at her, holding her face in his hands. The way his baby sister’s eyes lit up in the moonlight. He didn’t know what the hell SHIELD was, he just knew that Steve would do anything for his sister.  
  


* * *

  
It’s just past four in the morning when a scream tears through the Carter-Roger household. Michael is on his feet in seconds, gun in hand as he shoulders into Peggy’s room. His heart is in his throat, his blood pounding in his ears. He expected a murder scene given Peggy’s scream, but there isn’t any. There’s Steve holding Peggy to his chest, cradling her in a tender grasp.   
  
They haven’t even noticed him nor Bucky yet, Bucky holding onto the back of his shirt to ground himself.   
  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Peggy apologizes over and over again, sounding so small. So not like her. It breaks Michael’s heart. “You-you weren’t...there was… The kids...they were...”   
  
He shouldn’t be here. Yes, his baby sister is hurting, but it’s clear Steve has it handled. He should go back to bed with Bucky. Least he could comfort the other. Yet, the second he takes a step back, Steve is looking up at him with a kind smile, as if he’s comforting him too.  
  
In reality, he could see the terror in Steve’s eyes as he tries to calm himself down. Peggy’s scream had them all on edge. What did Rogers call it? PTSD.  
  
“Michael?” Peggy sounds broken as she looks up from her spot on Steve’s shoulder, seeing her older brother in her doorway. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You barely sleep as it is. I-”  
  
“What? No, c’mon, Marge, you didn’t wake me,” he teased with a small smile. She’s reaching for him to get into the bed and Michaelobeys, letting Peggy melt into him. She’s shaking. Whatever that nightmare was, it had to have been bad.  
  
“I’ll be back.” Steve is promising them before slipping out of bed, pausing just to throw slippers on so he can shuffle into the kitchen.  
  
There’s no remorse or even jealousy on Steve’s face when he comes back ten minutes later with two cups of herbal tea, setting them on the bedside table for him and Peggy. “I’ll be in the living room if you two need me, okay?”  
  
By the time Peggy is asleep again, the sun is starting to peek over the horizon. He’s exhausted, the adrenaline draining him of his energy. He pauses in the only guest bedroom now, seeing Bucky asleep in their bed, cuddling into his own pillow.   
  
He shuffles into the kitchen and the sight of a sleeping Captain America, slumped back on the couch, a book on his chest greets him. It’s almost adorable. If he knew where Peggy kept the camera, he’d take a photo.  
  
Shaking Steve’s shoulder, he narrowly avoids the man almost headbutting him as he sits up with a start. He’s still half asleep by the look on his face.  
  
“She’s sleeping. Just slumbered off.” He pauses, taking in the surroundings. The half-built baby furniture in the living room. The sketchbook open to one design of many of the nursery. Names scrawled onto a paper and crossed out.  
  
A smile tugs on his lips.   
  
“You really love her, don’t you, Rogers? I don’t know who's luckier to have the other.”  
  
Steve rubs sleepily at his eye, nodding his head. “I say I’m lucky to have her.” He yawns wildly. “I’ve loved her ever since first punch.”  
  
“Yeah, that does sound like our Pegs, huh? C’mon you Yank, let’s get you back to bed. You two got a doctor's appointment tomorrow.”   
  
He was truly wrong to doubt Steve in the past - it was clear how much he loved Peggy and how much his little sister loved her husband.   
  
How good they were for one another and she was in good hands.   
  
Even if those hands were those of a Yankee. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is a day late again!
> 
> Yeah, it's a guilty pleasure to have Michael and Bucky dating. They're cute.


End file.
